


what good do what if's do?

by letfelicitysoar



Category: Infinite (Band)
Genre: Fluffy Smut, M/M, but it isn't too explicit, if that is a thing, if ur uncomfortable with that kind of stuff, warning for mentions of kink play and rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-10
Updated: 2015-06-10
Packaged: 2018-04-03 18:55:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4111450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letfelicitysoar/pseuds/letfelicitysoar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It doesn’t take long though, maybe a whole half week before Sungyeol’s pressed with his back against the wall of an empty science class, Myungsoo choking around his dick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	what good do what if's do?

**Author's Note:**

> when you try to write some serious smut but only wind up with soft smut and lots of romance and fluff.

It’s been years since Sungyeol’s known Myungsoo and even though most of him can be somewhat overwhelmed, he takes pride in being his best friend, knowing so many other would want the opportunity to be so. If only they really knew Myungsoo, then they’d probably be disinclined to spark conversation or offer their friendship so willingly, but it’s Myungsoo’s silence and cold stare that usually does the trick instead, driving them off before they even have a chance to realize that Myungsoo’s silence is nothing more than him being so nervous he can’t speak and his cold stare is simply his intensity to observe any and everything before him. So, Sungyeol likes that it’s Myungsoo who had attached to him first, though when they were younger he was much more reluctant to be the other’s friend, afraid Myungsoo would consume him with his long lasting gazes and bone crushing embraces. But, that’s just Myungsoo. He has the need to touch, to feel warm skin under his fingertips and to watch every muscle spasm with his own two eyes. Sungyeol’s had years to adjust, to understand his friend and return every gesture when needed, whenever Myungsoo has felt setbacks in his life or simply needed reassurance. Sungyeol understands Myungsoo just as much as he seems to understand himself, but it’s not as accurate as he would have originally thought when the day they stand idly in line at the coffee shop happens.

He should have seen it coming, the arbitrary way Myungsoo had perched his chin on Sungyeol’s shoulder, complete innocence in his voice when he announced that he was gay. Sungyeol had stuttered at the sudden news, but the lady at the counter had called for whoever was next in line and he really had to get his order in if he wanted the coffee to pull himself together for the cram study sessions he planned to have with Woohyun later that evening. Myungsoo’s sexuality would have to wait.

It doesn’t take long though, maybe a whole half week before Sungyeol’s pressed with his back against the wall of an empty science class, Myungsoo choking around his dick. Part of him knows it’s wrong, but another part of him is so turned on by the aspect of  _wrong_ , that he only shudders and bucks his hips forward, fucking harder into Myungsoo’s mouth than he would voluntarily do so. There’s tears pricking around the red corners of Myungsoo’s eyes, but he doesn’t seem to care, not when he corkscrews his way down on Sungyeol again, the back of his throat pressing dangerously to the tip of Sungyeol’s cock. He lets out a broken sob because his best friend is deep throating him and they’re practically in public, anyone could walk into the empty class, not knowing what was going on inside. But Sungyeol gets a perverse pleasure in the thought, he can’t figure out if he does want someone to walk in on them or not. His brain stops processing thoughts once he catches Myungsoo with his hand down his pants, getting himself off to sucking Sungyeol’s dick and that causes his eyes to roll back as his vision goes white and the hand he has in Myungsoo’s hair tugs so hard that Myungsoo’s mouth slides off his cock with a loud pop and Sungyeol shoots all over his best friend’s cheek.

Myungsoo is a giggling mess when he comes, a strange sound that’s mixed with laughter and moans of pleasure (and Sungyeol’s name) as he strokes out his orgasm, trembling while resting his cum covered cheek on Sungyeol’s bare thigh. It’s gross, but somehow Sungyeol can’t find the energy in his hand to push Myungsoo away, instead he slumps down until he’s face to face with Myungsoo, blaming the current string of events on how he tenderly cards his hand into Myungsoo’s hair. The other smiles at him, that bright childish smile that Sungyeol’s always thought made him look ten years younger, it’s  _dirty_.

For a while, they do things of that nature. Sungyeol isn’t gay, he tells himself. Myungsoo is, he most definitely is, especially when he’s straddling the other’s lap, panting in a voice much too husky to be his own as he begs for Sungyeol to fuck his fingers into him. This isn’t the Myungsoo that Sungyeol is accustomed to (it still is Myungsoo on some level, the actual dork who is endearing and positively smitten with the idea of cuddling any object or being that emits warmth), but it’s the sex that drives him, that makes him  _want_  and _want_  and  _want_. He’s a little inexperienced in this category, yes, he’s had sex before, plenty of times with past girlfriends, but Myungsoo’s a little different though – he’s a lot different.

The two obviously still do regular things when in each other’s company, bickering and video game playing and occasionally studying. Myungsoo calls it friends with benefits, but for the most part Sungyeol is unsure of who is actually benefiting who, because Myungsoo seems to do most of the work, always touching and making Sungyeol feel good. He wants to return the favor, but he isn’t sure  _how_. Sungyeol doesn’t know how to touch other boys, he doesn’t know where he should place his hands aside from Myungsoo’s hair or arms because those are familiar spots to him. A part of him –  _the part that remains confused and ignorant_  – tells him it’s disgusting, to want to touch Myungsoo back, to make him feel just as good as he makes Sungyeol feel. It’s a new sort of overwhelming that Myungsoo causes in him.

—

“Fuck,” Myungsoo sighs out heavily, sinking down on Sungyeol’s cock. He’s faced away from him, back being bared as Sungyeol’s eyes scan every inch of his sweat covered skin, temptation calling for him to run his tongue along the sharp lines of Myungsoo’s shoulder blades. He’s riding Sungyeol, grinding down hard on his cock, ass faced towards the other because he knows just how much Sungyeol loves to stare at it. He’s pacing himself –  _somewhat_  – moving at a speed he knows isn’t enough for Sungyeol, for himself. They’ve only just started, foreplay having been Myungsoo dressed ridiculously as a cat and Sungyeol leashing him, demanding Myungsoo to do humiliating tasks while sweetly peppering him with kisses, the only true weakness Sungyeol has if he were to really have one, because to Myungsoo –  _he’s perfect_.

Sungyeol seems to have enough at some point, teeth grinding when he firmly grasps Myungsoo’s shoulder, rising, shoving the other down face first onto the mattress. It’s just on the line between rough and  _too_  rough, but Myungsoo likes it, revels in the feeling of whenever Sungyeol takes control.

He fucks him like that, a hand on Myungsoo’s shoulder, the other on his waist, directing his thrusts deep into him as Myungsoo arches his back and tries desperately to keep in synch with Sungyeol.

It’s almost insistent, the way Sungyeol needs to keep his hands on Myungsoo, as if he were to let go then the other would simply slip away from his reach. It’s laughable to Myungsoo, who has always been the one clinging and wanting to constantly be besides Sungyeol, to feel his warmth and sturdiness. Sungyeol is a mess, leaning forward to press his chest against Myungsoo’s back, kissing his neck softly, letting out a fluttery breath when he comes, biting down hard enough on his own lip to draw blood. Myungsoo hasn’t had time to come yet, because he isn’t selfish like Sungyeol, but the other whispers softly in his ear, arms shaky as he turns Myungsoo over, flips him on his back. “Sorry,” he says in a low voice, gentle but still raw from his orgasm. Sungyeol kisses Myungsoo, insistently, as if drawing in every breath Myungsoo has to offer.

When Myungsoo comes, it’s because Sungyeol has his mouth hot against his collar bones, teeth lightly scraping them as his hand pumps Myungsoo’s cock, long fingers cool and soothing in a way that only makes Myungsoo’s skin flush hotter. It’s gentle almost, the way Sungyeol always seems to touch Myungsoo, afraid he’ll break the other when it’s always been Sungyeol who has been fragile. He fucks Myungsoo with an intense heat, but makes love to him in a way so tender and compassionate – Myungsoo would think the other was absolutely besotted with him.

They started out shaky, Sungyeol unsure and sometimes too smothered by Myungsoo’s stares, by his overwhelming desire of filling the air around him with _Sungyeol_. Back then, Sungyeol was oblivious –  _more so than now_  – to just about everything. He had walked around as if he did know everything though, grinning proudly at the fact that he had cracked a smile onto Myungsoo’s face. He hadn’t even had to try hard, because Myungsoo smiles easily, laughter and amusement come second nature to Myungsoo who finds so much delight in every little thing. It wasn’t really Sungyeol’s jokes or his silly antics that drew Myungsoo in, it was rather his abrasiveness, how blunt and crass he could be when no one seemed to be looking. Sungyeol wasn’t someone to offer kindness easily – _he was kind, of course_  – it was just a thing that someone really had to work at. Myungsoo hadn’t even had to lift a finger though, Sungyeol seeming to lift it for him instead. Their friendship was strange, to say the least, at least to Myungsoo, who could not, for the life of him, understand why Sungyeol even wanted to be his friend. It was borderline breakable when Myungsoo became attracted to Sungyeol, even worse when the sexual frustration melted away and all Myungsoo was left with was a searing fondness for Sungyeol. All the things he felt for Sungyeol only seemed to amplify into something much more large and enigmatic, an emotion that Myungsoo was still unfamiliar with.

He’s always let his emotions control him though, take the wheel and steer him any which way, so it isn’t a surprise when he whines softly in Sungyeol’s arms, adoration literally bleeding from the other as he kisses Myungsoo deep and tender, drawing out all the affection that rests in the pits of Myungsoo’s stomach. It rolls off easily, almost naturally when Myungsoo gasps out the words.

“I love you.”

—

“What if I had never met you?” Sungyeol asks, voice faint and nearly a whisper. Myungsoo is curled by his side, yawning as he seems to succumb to the lullaby of sleep. They abandoned the idea of building their own dragon shaped kite when Myungsoo had pounced on Sungyeol’s lap, forcing the other to use the kite string as a form of bondage when Myungsoo wouldn’t stop teasing Sungyeol with trashy dialogue like they were in some porno. Sometimes, Sungyeol fears if he just let’s Myungsoo do as he pleased all the time, the two would get too absorbed in each other and lose sight of all else. He’s afraid that they’d just sink into an empty void, nothing but each other to fuel the other’s existence and it’s frightening because Sungyeol wants that more than he’s comfortable with. A life of nothing but Myungsoo is the sweetest calling he’s ever heard, but he’d be abandoning any other possible futures.

“You’d probably be prowling around like a zombie,” replies Myungsoo in a drowsy voice, eyes hooded and heavy. Sungyeol brushes his bangs back to get a better view of Myungsoo’s face. “You’d also be married to some girl with long black hair and a great ass, she’d be hot, like me.”

Sungyeol lets out a snort because Myungsoo is so full of himself, but the fingers that fiddle in his hair are light and playful, indulgent almost as he smiles wide. “She wouldn’t be as kinky as you. She’d be sweeter too and smell nicer.”

“Excuse you, but I smell like roses and all things good in the world.” Myungsoo lazily rolls over and faces Sungyeol, blinking blearily at him in what is supposed to be an incriminating glare. He’s cute, Sungyeol thinks Myungsoo is nothing but cute. “Besides, you’re the one who tied me up earlier.”

“You enjoyed it,” Sungyeol says with a sort of giggly smirk, his face can’t seem to decide which to express. Instinctively, he leans down to kiss Myungsoo, and naturally the other kisses back.

—

They’re a little drunk when Myungsoo suggests it and Sungyeol is flushed down the bone, eyes refusing to look up at Myungsoo’s eager expression. Myungsoo doesn’t particularly want to do it, but the possessive side of him wants to own all of Sungyeol, to mark him in a way that no girl before him could have ever done so. He tells Sungyeol it’s for fun, a kink, something he really wants to do because it’ll make him feel good –  _make them both feel good_. Sungyeol agrees almost too easily, even more pliant when he isn’t sober.

It’s dirty, Myungsoo knows, but he doesn’t care, not when Sungyeol is so flustered and the only thing that he seems to completely be able to comprehend is Myungsoo as he calls his name out over and over in repeat. They’re in the bathroom of the bar, it’s fucking filthy here, but Myungsoo wants this so badly, much more than he had moments ago when the idea had simply flitted across his mind. His hands grip Sungyeol’s dainty hips and he presses his chest right up against Sungyeol’s, mouthing hotly at the beauty marks sprinkled on the taller male’s skin.

He fucks Sungyeol that night in a bathroom stall of the bar, people shuffle in and out and if they suspect anything, no one calls them out on what they’re doing. Sungyeol’s voice is harsh when Myungsoo tips his hips forward, fucking into him and savoring the feeling, the possessive demand telling Myungsoo _moremoremore_. Sungyeol is a wrecked mess, more than anything Myungsoo has seen before, clawing at his back and trying desperately to hold his cries in, sweat making his bangs cling to his forehead and face twisted in pleasure. Myungsoo thinks this is the pinnacle of Sungyeol’s beauty and he falls in love with Sungyeol for what he can only assume is the hundredth time.

—

Sungyeol met his first love when he was in high school. She was older, about five years so, already in college and dating someone else. It ended badly, but he doesn’t regret it, she treated him fairly, acknowledged his feelings and turned him down respectfully. She wasn’t his only love, not when he started college and met other girls, girls he dated and slept with, ones he can remember with his eyes closed and others he can barely even recall at all. That was a long time ago, when he was just friends with Myungsoo, when they spent nights playing games and scheming pranks to pull on their other friends, when Sungyeol was aloof and ignorant still. Such a long time ago.

Now, it’s almost like a distant dream, Sungyeol’s head poking out from behind Myungsoo as he rims him, tongue lapping at the sensitive spot where his fingers were moments ago, deep inside of Myungsoo. The younger male whines, feeling strange and yet pleased –  _most likely_  – and Sungyeol digs his nails into the soft flesh of Myungsoo’s ass. It’s a little funny, he thinks, because just a couple years ago he was exclusively fucking females and here he is literally eating a dude’s ass.

Myungsoo’s clutching the sheets underneath him, leaning slightly into Sungyeol’s touch and he’s loud, but he’s always been extremely vocal whenever Sungyeol seems to make him feel good. This time, he doesn’t really mean to have sex with Myungsoo in this position, leaning over him as Myungsoo wraps his legs around Sungyeol’s waist to pull him closer. It’s boring and Sungyeol can only go into a certain length, but it’s still invigorating – still hot and  _good_. Myungsoo doesn’t seem to mind, only dragging Sungyeol closer, always, always, closer. Their chest press against each other and stick through their sweat, a slick feeling as Sungyeol fucks into Myungsoo with shallow, quick thrusts, searching for Myungsoo’s lips. There’s a certain proximity to this, so much skin on skin and it’s a little more intimate, something akin to making love and that thought alone is enough to cause a warmth to burst within Sungyeol’s chest as he cries out Myungsoo’s name when he comes inside him. The other seems to follow right after, a usual aspect of their time together –  _Sungyeol leading and Myungsoo trailing right after him_.

His cheeks are flushed and his hair is draping over his eyes in damp clumps, without a second thought, Sungyeol brushes his bangs away to stare at him, taking in the sight of Myungsoo’s post-orgasm glow. His best friend has always been attractive, but Sungyeol feels it more than ever when he kisses Myungsoo again, slow and sloppy, but warm and eager all the same. It’s a little late, but Sungyeol has always figured he had time, that Myungsoo would give him time. He’s selfish and a coward, and most importantly greedy, so it’s a wonder how Myungsoo could ever love someone like him. But, he supposes that there’s a fault in everything, Myungsoo’s happens to be that. Sungyeol’s holding Myungsoo in his arms and kissing him even more when he finally says it, but only because he truly feels it.

“I love you too.”


End file.
